


Island

by Livruka



Category: Tales of Vesperia
Genre: Established Relationship, Flynn is too decent to abuse Yuri's state of mind, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, It's short so I didn't elaborate, Life moves on but Yuri's struggling to keep up, M/M, Make of it what you will, Post-Canon, Some improper things might follow, They might have made out during the night but probably not, probably?, teehee, yuri is not okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27800263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livruka/pseuds/Livruka
Summary: Written for FluriWeek2020 over on Twitter.A lonely night quickly turns desperate without an anchor to cling to.
Relationships: Yuri Lowell/Flynn Scifo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 24





	Island

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the summary, this was written for Day 1 of FluriWeek2020 on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/fluriweek2020): Zaphias.
> 
> Please bear with the lack of information, it's been several months since I last set foot into the game, so I made all of this up as I went. Can update if anything's horrifically wrong.
> 
> Please enjoy!

Exhaustion is the only comfort Yuri finds at the end of the day. With all blastia gone, political parties in shambles and the nature of Terca Lumireis laid bare to humanity's steps, all larger cities are struggling to gain a foothold. What's left of their culture needs to be reworked, and society as a whole is looking for a new perspective. The guilds are playing a major role in establishing rules and enforcing new arrangements. After months spent in Dahngrest and weeks of shuttling back and forth between Nordopolica and Zaphias, the quiet of Yuri's own room doesn't feel as relaxing as it used to.

The world feels changed, and so does Yuri himself. Brain on fire, he's finding it hard to breathe, the silence too stifling to bear. Opening a window does nothing to ease his unrest. Repede seems to sense his agitation and rests his head in Yuri's lap, ears twitching at every nervous glance Yuri shoots around the room. It's like he can't unwind, like his job isn't done. He needs to move on but feels like he's already done too much. His limbs are heavy, but his mind is running in helpless circles filled with images of enormous creatures descending from the sky and the feeling of a loss he can't explain. They follow him in his dreams. Throat suddenly tight, Yuri fumbles for the bracelet on his wrist. The lack of warmth from it is unnerving, and he curls up in bed with Repede by his feet.

Sleep has claimed him long before Repede's soft yapping announces the visitor. Yuri's hand flies to his sword, hilt gripped firmly below the pillow he's willing to cut in two if necessary. For a second or two, his pulse quickens with the rise of adrenaline. It's when Repede scratches at the door with a whimper that Yuri realizes his mistake. He exhales and feels the tension draining away. With a flick of his wrist he withdraws the hand from underneath the pillow. Nothing betrays his previous anxiety when he pulls open the door, hair loose and smile sleepy. Still, Flynn gives him a quick once-over before stepping inside. He's shed his heavy armor, clad in simple linen and a coat that he hangs over the bed post. It's almost funny, Yuri finds, how small he looks wearing cloth compared to his knight attire. Flynn seems more focused on Yuri's demeanor, and Yuri tenses when he sees Flynn's eyes dart from Repede excitedly licking his hand to the messy bed with the pillow draped a little too neatly over the blade hidden beneath.

Flynn's forehead creases into a frown. He sighs.

"I should have called for you instead," Flynn says and reaches for Yuri's arm, but his hand closes around air. Yuri slips away to sit by the window, knee pulled to his chest. His breath catches in his throat despite the winter chill sweeping in from outside, fresh air doing nothing to ease the strain on his mind that's suddenly all too present again. The cold envelops him, skin erupting into goosebumps. For a moment they're both quiet, with Repede's tail thumping a slow rhythm against the floor.

"Tell me what I can do, Yuri. Tell me how I can help."

He doesn't know. He doesn't know how to respond, doesn't know how to handle himself in these moments, but Flynn won't have it, and he crosses the room in a few long strides. Yuri hears the rustle of his smallclothes and shifts to turn but is caught in a tight embrace. Flynn's body is warm against his back, his arms a sturdy prison. Steady breaths ghost over the top of his head. It feels like a trap, but Yuri would rather be trapped than falling into the pit that is his own brain these days, so he stops struggling. Flynn's lips sink into his hair, his nose a gentle brush against the tips of his ears. Yuri shifts deeper into his arms and hides, hides away from the cold, the fear and the nightmares. 

Face tucked safely into the crook of Flynn's elbow, he whispers, "I don't know," And Flynn holds him. Yuri only notices the stream of cold air has stopped when he hears the window creaking, Flynn's strong frame straining to reach for the handle, but Yuri won't let him go. He can't lose this now.

Flynn seems to know he's needed right here, right in this place of darkness nobody else dares shine a light into. But he's not afraid. His body sinks against Yuri's after a while, and they rest against the window together, their mingling breaths dusting the glass in white. 

Yuri turns around then, face buried in Flynn's undershirt. The arms around him shift to accomodate the new position, muscles flexing against his back, then Flynn lifts him up and Yuri clings to him. It's like the only things keeping him sane are the firm resistance of Flynn's body against his and the heavy thuds of his heart resounding in his head.

He doesn't know how they got into bed, doesn't remember Flynn taking his clothes off or shedding his own, but he wakes in a nest of warmth and safety. Flynn's arms are still wrapped around him, hands resting in the small of his back, with Yuri pressed tightly into him. His breathing is even now, his head clear. Flynn's hair is a mess on the pillow, and Yuri raises a hand to brush through it and push the unruly strands aside before they tickle him awake.

The knights will be looking for him by now, he's sure, but Flynn must have made the decision to not care last night, and Yuri won't be the one to question it. This is their space, their island. For as long as he can, he'll revel in it, pretend this is all that matters and save the difficult thoughts for later.


End file.
